windsnocturne: (Clay/Apollo)
[personal profile] windsnocturne
Title: the best cure for insomina
Fandom: Ace Attorney
Pairing or Characters: Clay/Apollo
Rating: R
Kink used: First time
Content/Warning: Underage, cliché

Summary: Clay can't sleep. Apollo wakes up from the same dream he's been having for weeks. Clearly, there's only one solution.




They always shared Clay's bed during sleepovers. It started the night Apollo got stuck there during a storm without a sleeping bag, and they'd felt so comfortable that way that Apollo never bothered bringing a sleeping bag again.

It was so simple back then, sleeping together didn't mean anything but having someone to talk to in the dark, a warm and cozy feeling on cold nights, and protection from the zombies and skeletons they thought were going to get them after telling too many ghost stories on Halloween.

But they're not kids anymore. They still have sleepovers, but they call it "spending the night." They still tell scary stories, but they know by now that zombies aren't real and skeletons won't pop out and get them. They still share Clay's bed, but now feeling Apollo's warm body next to his stirs up feelings beyond merely warm and cozy.

At fifteen, Clay knows very well what those feelings are. Sex ed class covered everything, but even beyond that he's seen movies, read books, heard stories. He also knows it's no big deal to have these kinds of feelings for another guy, and he's almost certain Apollo feels the same way. They're joined at the hip, they can read each other like a book, all the usual clichés. Dad says Apollo might as well move in with them at this point.

But what if I'm wrong? They still talk about girls they like, Clay's had a few dates, Apollo had a huge crush on Stella Hart before she moved away. Maybe Apollo still likes her, or maybe he likes another girl. Or another guy.

Maybe he just isn't into me that way.

Clay sighs, feeling Apollo curl closer to him in his sleep. The digital clock reads 12:18, they finished their movie marathon an hour ago, and Apollo's been sleeping for the past half hour. Clay is wide awake, and any attempts to sleep have fallen flat.

Unlike something else.

Trying to sleep the first time led to fantasizing, and that led to a boner. Apollo's leg pressing against his is making it worse, and he can't get up to jerk off in the bathroom because Apollo's holding onto his hand.

Okay, maybe if I go back to sleep it'll go away on its own. But Apollo's hand suddenly squeezes his, Apollo presses against him, and-

Woah.

"Apollo?"

"Mm, Clay, don't stop..."

"Apollo, what..." And Apollo's eyes snap open, his cheeks turn red and they both freeze, two deer caught in the headlights. No, two bucks. Two bucks with boners. Well, this answers Clay's question about how Apollo feels about him. Maybe.

"We should talk," Clay says, and Apollo nods. They tug the blankets closer around them, even though they're as alone as they can get in Clay's room, in his bed, down the hall from Dad, who sleeps through anything.

It's quiet before Apollo finally speaks up.

"This isn't the first time I've had that dream," he whispers. "Were you dreaming about me, too?"

"No, not really," Clay sighs. "I couldn't sleep. But I was thinking about you." Apollo looks like he's blushing, it's hard to tell in the dim light. "Listen, Apollo..."

"Clay, I..." He smiles. "This is so stupid, here I am with these feelings for my best friend and I can't even talk to him about it! And I know you like me back, even if you weren't totally obvious I can just tell." Clay's cheeks burn brightly, but before he can ask if he was really that obvious Apollo's lips are on his. This first kiss is clumsy, kinda sloppy, but he feels all the sensations the stories say come with kissing. Fireworks and everything, and his hard-on's throbbing against Apollo's through their pajamas.

"Clay," Apollo gasps when they break the kiss for air. "Clay, I wanna know what it feels like for real..." His tone is vulnerable, his eyes are fierce and determined. "Touch me, Clay. I know we can't do everything they do in the stories, but..."

"This is enough," Clay murmurs as he reaches into Apollo's boxer shorts, tentatively brushing his fingers against his friend's cock. It's warm and smooth and Apollo lets out such a loud moan, Clay once again relieved his father's such a heavy sleeper. He explores a little more with his fingers, taking in the new sensation of touching a cock that isn't his own. Soon he's wrapping his hand around the shaft, stroking slowly. It would be easy to just do it the way he does it to himself, but he doesn't want easy. He wants to make Apollo's dream come true as much as he can.

"Ah-!" Apollo's eyes snap open, his hand grasping the waistband of Clay's pajamas, tugging them down. Clay's cock springs forward, Apollo wrapping his eager hand around it. "H-here, let me-let me take care of you, too!"

"Apollo," Clay groans, "ah, a little slower...yeah, just like that!" Apollo's strokes are shorter and softer than Clay's own, his hand giving an experimental squeeze now and then. "Mm, that's good-!"

They find a good rhythm soon enough, a contrast between Apollo's eager touches and Clay's smooth strokes, their mouths coming together in another deep kiss. Clay's free arm wraps around Apollo's waist, pulling him closer; Apollo's hand slips under his pajama shirt, touching his chest.

The books describe this as a passionate, wild fire spreading out of control, with lots of shouting and musical moans. But if this is a fire, it's a cozy one in the fireplace on a winter's evening, or a campfire on a summer night. Comfortable, yet still exciting, almost sneaky even though there's no way for them to get caught.

"Apollo," he gasps, breaking the kiss, "I think I'm gonna..."

"Me too," Apollo whispers, "let's try to do it together, okay?" And they keep stroking, touching, squeezing until he feels that familiar jolt, only stronger, hotter; he's not sure whether the shout he hears is his own or Apollo's.

He feels like he's floating as he comes back down and his vision clears. Apollo's eyes are shiny and bright as they look into his, and Clay smiles.

"So that's what it feels like."

"That was even better than my dream," Apollo whispers. "Thanks, Clay."

It's only when they hug that Clay's aware of just how sticky his pants are, how sweaty they've gotten. Reluctantly, they climb out of bed and Clay digs out two extra pairs of pajamas.

"We'll wash ours tomorrow morning. You don't leave till late in the afternoon and if Dad asks we can just tell him yours got sweaty," he says. Apollo grins, and they change quickly, Clay's pajamas nearly a tent on his shorter, skinnier friend.

"Thanks again, Clay." They nestle under the covers, Apollo leaning against Clay's chest. "Can we do this again next time?"

"Yeah, of course." Clay smiles, kissing Apollo's forehead. "And maybe we can try some of the other stuff we've seen in those stories."

"Yeah!" And then Apollo yawns, it's probably close to two in the morning by now. Or maybe one. Either way they only have a few more hours before they have to get up and wash their sticky pajamas, but Clay doesn't want to bother setting the clock.

We'll just do it as soon as we wake up. Dad sleeps late Sundays anyway.

He closea his eyes as Apollo snugglea closer, and they fall into a peaceful sleep.

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